Interior of a woven bamboo structure, thousands of thin canes forming a tall arched passage with light falling through the gaps

The Harmonium That Rarely Came Up

I wrote about learning things you have no professional use for. What came back were confessions. A harmonium, a garden, twenty years of hotel paraphernalia. And almost every note ended the same way. Nobody at work knows about this.

The Leisure We Forgot

We thought it was a dead insect. It turned out to be something else entirely. A small discovery in a Dallas garden, a line read at 35,000 feet, and a reminder that leisure has very little to do with free time.

What Does Success Mean?

Success is not always what we think. Not louder. Not heavier. Sometimes it is lighter. Cleaner. Full of meaning. An old poem reminded me to ask again: what does success mean now?

Of Curiosity and exploration